A turbulent 24 hours

I was about to pour myself a nightcap last night when the lights started flickering. Not all the circuits went off, so I assumed it was a problem in my house. Soon all the houses in the village were dark.

Last time we had a power cut, I bought lanterns. Where were they? The one I expected to be in the utility unit wasn't. (It was, I just didn't look hard enough by torchlight.)

I went to bed and could not sleep. Northern Powergrid gave updates during the night....!

Power was restored at 0930 and I was glad to welcome back central heating.

I went shopping and then to see Margret at lunchtime. She still has a terrible cough, but is mainly lying down or resting in a reclining position. I've suggested she asks for some chest physio tomorrow.

Yesterday evening I heard that Jenny had fallen and fractured her pelvis (again). She was in the RVI. Kate is very keen to bring her home, but can't until Jenny can stand to transfer from chair to wheelchair etc.

Today, word came that Maureen, of Maureen and Brian, was in hospital. The care home could not tell anyone where, when, why because friends are not next of kin. I managed to track down Maureen's sister. Maureen is very poorly with complications following her recent fractured femur.

I made soup and cooked a chicken. I was eating when I had a text from Julie wondering why I was not in Wall Village Hall for a concert. I had completely forgotten about it. I was there by 10 past 7 and the concert had not started.

Here you see Sam Gillespie, who is truly virtuosic.  His brother James has just sneaked into my picture.

There was a very moving part of the concert. James sang a Scottish lament using the words of Refaat Alareer's poem, If I must die.  It was very moving and the hall was completely silent afterwards. There was no applause. The silence seemed to go on forever, even the small children were quiet.